Valhalla
by Special FX
Summary: One stormy day along one of the many shores of Anima, Raven Branwen finds a strange boy washed up on the beach.
1. Chapter 1

_I._

_Bandit Meets Viking_

* * *

She could have left him there

No, she _should_ have left him there. And yet, for one reason or another, she didn't. She had brought him back to the tribe, dressed his wounds, changed his clothes, and even let him rest on her very own bed. Her daughter was probably around the same age as the boy right now. Perhaps that had something to do with it? A bunch of sentimental nonsense that Summer and Tai had managed to worm into her psyche?

Raven let out a sigh as she watched the boy's chest rise and fall back down with every breath he took.

Playing house with Taiyang all those years had made her soft. It wasn't supposed to be in her nature, to help _anyone_ like that, much less a stranger. Summer had rubbed off on her more than she thought.

It was just another reason as to why she had left them all behind in the first place.

It was a dog eat dog world out there, and playing house with Taiyang and the rest of them all only made her _weak_, made her _soft_. The strong survived and the weak perished, that was how the world worked and how it always would be. And since she didn't have any plans on dying anytime soon, she needed to be _strong_. But the strong didn't waste their time rescuing strays out of the goodness of their own heart.

Raven clicked her tongue in annoyance.

A one time blunder, she whispered to herself. There would be no more playing the part of the good Samaritan after this, child or not. Resources were scarce out in the Wildlands of Anima, and she had no intention of taking care of the boy for any longer than necessary. As soon as he woke up, that was the end of her generosity and he was on his own.

Even if the boy's scraggly blonde hair reminded her of a younger Taiyang and happier days past.

* * *

Thorfinn's eyes slowly fluttered open.

A fire was burning nearby, or so he thought. He wasn't quite sure, as his mind was still in a bit of haze. His shoulder also hurt like hell, so it might have been dislocated. The bed that he was lying on was soft, comfortable even, and for a moment, he could feel his eyes begin to droop once more.

And then he remembered.

_Askeladd_.

His eyes shot awake and they quickly scanned around the room. Rather than a room, however, it looked to be a small little tent. A lone candle stood on a table, providing the only source of light in the vicinity. It was a little dark, but he didn't fail to notice a woman that was sitting down on the other side of the tent. A large sword laid in her lap as she went to work sharpening it, while eerily colored red eyes constantly jumped between him and the sword.

She said nothing, and for a moment, the only sounds in the tent came from the sharpening of her sword.

Thorfinn swallowed, his mouth feeling quite dry. "Where am I?" His voice hoarsely came out.

The woman stopped sharpening her sword and he could see her brow furrow for a moment. She opened her mouth, and what came out was a strange language that sounded like utter nonsense to him. For a brief moment, he thought that she was a witch, with her strange red eyes and bizarre words, but then thought better of it. Witches and their ilk didn't exist, those were just stories that Ylva used to tell him to scare him.

"Can you not speak Norse?" Thorfinn eventually asked with a scowl. It was going to be a problem if they couldn't understand each other at all.

The woman's face morphed into a scowl as well as she spoke in that bizarre tongue of hers again. The woman's words were still lost to him, however, and he just frowned in response. Just where in the world had he ended up? And where was Askeladd?

Thorfinn tried to think back and could recall the weather taking a turn for the worse while they were sailing. He could remember his ship getting separated from the rest of Askeladd's fleet. They had been along the coast of Normandy before the storm hit, so had he washed up somewhere nearby?

Wherever he was, it didn't matter.

The only thing that was important right now was finding Askeladd. He tested his shoulder a bit, rolling it around a little before hopping off the bed. It still stung like hell, but nothing was broken so it wouldn't hinder him in battle too much. He looked around the tent, ignoring the woman's stare and tried to find his father's dagger instead.

The red-eyed woman suddenly stood up and headed towards the table. Thorfinn's eyes widened as he saw her hold up his father's dagger and say something in that strange language of hers again. He walked over towards her and held out his hand expectantly. She stared at him for a moment, before she tossed him his weapon, which he deftly caught out of the air.

Pulling his father's dagger out of its sheath, he took a good look at it before he resheathed it. Thankfully, his father's heirloom was still in satisfactory condition. It was the last memento that he had of his father, so he couldn't bear having it damaged.

"Thanks…" He muttered to the woman, who only looked at him with a blank expression. He bowed his head a bit as if to convey his gratitude before he ran out of the tent. He heard the woman say something in return, but he didn't understand her anyway, so he kept running instead.

He needed to find Askeladd, nothing else mattered.

There were people outside the woman's tent, as well as other tents and even some makeshift buildings. A few people gave him strange looks as he ran past them, even sometimes calling after him in that strange language of theirs. Thorfinn didn't pay them any mind however and only continued running.

Eventually, he found himself reaching a wall made out of wooden logs. The entire campsite was walled off, which meant that this place was probably more like a base of operations, rather than a simple camp. Either way, it didn't matter to him as he kept running, making sure to pick up speed as he ran towards the wall before leaping over it. The guards at the gate yelled something at him, but since he couldn't understand them anyway, he just kept running.

He needed to find the ocean, to see if he could find Askeladd's ship.

He couldn't help but notice that the land here was lush with vegetation. There were trees and grasslands as far as the eye could see. It wasn't like Iceland, where there was nothing but snow and ice. The fertile land here reminded him of the stories about Vinland that old man Lief used to tell.

Thorfinn soon slowed his running to a walk, as he began to feel a bit winded.

He tried to listen for the sounds of the ocean, but only heard the chirping of wildlife instead. It seemed that the strange woman had dragged him off to somewhere far, far away from the shores. While he was grateful that the woman had saved his life, it still annoyed him that she might have cost him a chance at finding Askeladd by taking him so far away from the ocean.

A low growl soon caught his attention and he stopped walking.

Thorfinn tried to listen for the sound again before he drew his dagger in response. The bushes in front of him rustled a bit and then out came the strangest creature he had ever seen. It almost looked like a wolf, but wolves didn't have red eyes along with the strange bone-like exterior these creatures possessed. It was almost like he was staring at a monster straight out of the stories his sister use to tell in order to scare him.

The creature only growled once more before it attacked.

* * *

The boy was interesting.

Raven couldn't understand a single word of that boy's strange language, but she didn't need to. She could see it in his eyes, he had the same eyes that she did. They were the eyes of the _strong_, of someone that had survived through hell and back. They were the eyes of a _survivor_.

Those eyes reminded her of herself, and a rotten childhood filled with misery and blood.

Bad experiences and tough situations only made you stronger, she knew that from first-hand experience. That boy looked like he had been through the wringer, and that meant that he had potential. The tribe could always use more warriors, there was a certain kind of strength to be found in numbers after all. Perhaps saving the boy hadn't been a complete waste of her time.

That was only if the boy didn't get himself killed by running out into the dark in Grimm infested lands, however.

It didn't take Raven too long to track the boy down after he had dashed out of her tent. People from the tribe had pointed her towards the direction that the boy had run in, and that was all that she needed to know. When she finally found the boy, it was in the middle of a small battlefield.

Corpses of recently killed Grimm were littered throughout the small clearing. The young boy that she had sought stood in the middle of the clearing, blood dripping from his arms and other various small scratches throughout his body. His breathing was labored, and it looked as if he was going to fall over at any second.

And yet, that determination to survive, that _fire_ never left his eyes the entire time.

The boy had only proven that her judgment on his character was correct. That he was a _survivor_, and that he was _strong_. He met her eyes, and even if she couldn't understand his words, Raven could read the expression on his face.

_I don't need your help._

Raven just laughed in response.

Children would always be stubborn, she had been the same when she was his age. She silently strode over towards the boy, stopping just as she was right in front of him and dropped down to one knee until they were eye level with one another.

"Tell me, boy, what is your name?"

The boy didn't understand of course, so Raven simply took matters into her own hands.

"Raven." She simply said, while pointing to herself. "Now, what is your name?" She asked again, pointing towards the boy this time.

The boy's brow furrowed for a moment, and Raven thought that she would have to repeat the question before the boy finally opened his mouth.

"Thorfinn."

* * *

**Author's Note- **Written solely because I didn't get my weekly Vinland fix this week and because I'm a hopeless addict. Also, I wanted to read Vinland fics, but there weren't any so I wrote one.


	2. Chapter 2

_II._

_Bandit Meets Viking_

* * *

The sound of a sword being sharpened.

That was what Thorfinn found himself waking up to once again. Everything around him just looked so familiar that he couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu. The dimly lit candles still burned nearby, the shadows still danced along the edges of the tent, and that strange red-eyed woman still had that same fondness for sharpening her sword.

Thorfinn could still vividly recall the skirmish from last night. Those damned beasts had nicked him good, but at the very least, he managed to kill off most of them before he passed out. If the red-eyed woman had noticed him waking up, she didn't acknowledge it and only continued sharpening her sword instead. It was clear to him that she treated her blade with the same respect that he had towards the dagger his father had left him.

Now that he finally took a good look at the weapon in question, Thorfinn couldn't help but notice how _strange _it really was. The entire length of the blade was dyed a blood-red and was so long that he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could even fight with such a thing.

"Thorfinn." The woman suddenly spoke. The rest of the words the floated out of the woman's mouth didn't make a lick of sense to him, but he had managed to recognize his name at the very least.

He moved to get up, in spite of the stinging pains all over his body, but then the woman suddenly stood up and gently pushed him back into the bed. Strange foreign words spewed out of her mouth as she held him still and pointed at the bandages wrapped around his upper-body.

Thorfinn might not have been able to speak her tongue, but at the very least, he could make out the meaning behind her words.

_Sit still before you reopen your injuries._

It was annoying, but she was right. He wouldn't be able to find Askeladd with these injuries, not when those strange beasts roamed these lands. It irked him, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Survival took priority right now, there was no chance for revenge if he died like a dog to some wild beasts. He'd have to wait until his wounds recovered before he tried to venture out in search of Askeladd again.

The woman's hand was still on his shoulder, and Thorfinn just scowled in response.

"Alright already, I get it." He grumbled as he shook free from the woman's grasp. "I'll get some rest."

The woman just rolled her eyes and mumbled something in that strange language of hers again before she left the tent. He didn't know where she went, but he didn't particularly care either, so he just laid down onto his bed instead. He wasn't sure how long it would take his injuries to heal, but he didn't plan on staying here for too long, a week at the most before he would try to hunt down Askeladd again.

He wasn't sure why that woman, _Raven_, he believed her name was, had saved him twice now. She didn't strike him as the type of person to help people out of the goodness of their own heart, like how that English woman had done for him in the past. No, Raven was someone that smelled of blood and violence.

A warrior rather than a civilian.

Everything would have been a lot simpler if he could've just asked the damn woman. He would've probably found Askeladd by now if she just spoke a lick of Norse. He wouldn't have needed to run around like a chicken with its head cut off looking for the ocean if he could've just asked her where it was from the beginning.

Why was it that even the very Gods themselves seemed to want to deny him his revenge?

* * *

Another few days had passed and the boy's injuries were starting to heal up nicely.

If he were a bit older, she would've simply awakened his Aura and saved herself a bit of trouble, but he was still too young for that. The tribe elders had their questions, but their concerns were easily answered when she spoke of the boy's potential as another warrior for the tribe. Unlike in the major cities, strength was a valued commodity out here in the Wildlands.

The language barrier, however, was a pain and limited what information she could gather on the boy.

She had tried to communicate, but there wasn't much to be said when both parties couldn't understand one another. That was why Raven had started teaching him, it wasn't like she went out of her way or anything like that, just pointing out a few words here and there. The boy to his credit picked up on what she was doing however and was learning fast.

He was still bedridden most of the time, so there wasn't much to do but teach him their language in her spare time anyway.

And that was how their strange little routine started. Thorfinn would point to an object and she would tell him what it was. He'd repeat the words to himself a few times before he pointed at another object and the cycle continued. She'd simply sharpen her sword all the while until eventually, Thorfinn ran out of things to point to in her tent.

Once his injuries had healed up enough for him to move around without risking reopening them, she began showing him around the tribe.

They would go through with their little routine all the while. Thorfinn would point to an object and she would tell him what it was. Sometimes, Raven couldn't help but wonder, would she have been doing the same thing with her daughter if she had stayed with Tai? She'd quickly shake those thoughts out of her mind, however, as the strong had no need for a bunch of sentimental nonsense like that.

* * *

Time passed slowly when there was nothing to do.

Thorfinn would never say that he missed being with Askeladd's band, but at the very least, he always had something to do. He tried to learn the language of the locals, if only to be able to get some answers. Raven would teach him, but that was only when she was actually around. Most of the day, she wasn't and he was left to his own devices.

There wasn't much he could do with his injuries, training was definitely off the table, not unless he wanted to reopen his wounds. He passed the time by polishing his father's knife, but even that could only eat up so many hours in the day. Once his wounds had healed enough for him to start walking around, he would explore around the camp, but even that eventually got old fast. There wasn't much of a point with interacting with the locals when he couldn't understand anything that came out of their mouths.

If there ever was a surefire way to drive somebody insane, it was to sit around all day doing absolutely nothing.

Perhaps that was why he found himself looking forward to when the sun would set. That was when Raven would return from whatever it was she was doing and they could resume their speaking lessons, if one could even call them that. He was learning, but he still couldn't exactly communicate what he wanted to ask yet.

And he had questions by the boatload. He wanted to ask Raven if she knew Askeladd. He wanted to ask her if she had seen any of Askeladd's fleet and if she had, which direction they sailed. He wanted to ask her why the moon in the sky looked different and why she had bothered to save him twice. He wanted to ask her so many damn questions it was driving him insane.

But he couldn't, _not yet_ anyway.

So, when Raven finally returned to her tent that night, she took up her spot on the chair by the table and began sharpening her sword. And then they started with their strange little routine all over again.


End file.
